


Age It 6000 Years, Then Let It Breath

by CBlue



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: "You Go Too Fast For Me", 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Trying at Feelings, I just really love that tag, Love Confessions, M/M, No Betas We Fall Like Crowley, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Post-Apocawasn't, and they're also both obvious, but so is crowley, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 18:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19932883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CBlue/pseuds/CBlue
Summary: Crowley’s thoughts moved too fast, always too fast, he reprimanded himself. Six thousand years of going too fast and he had to bite his tongue to keep from mucking it up. It was greater torture than Hell could come up with. His angel smiling at him, completely satisfied, as all Crowley selfishly wanted was more. Laughter riched poured from Crowley at that thought. It interrupted what Aziraphale was talking about. He hadn’t been paying attention, just listening to his voice. Crowley found himself doing that often. Aziraphale paused his speech, brow furrowed but still plastered with a drunken smile.“My dear, whatever is so funny?” Aziraphale finally spoke, addressing Crowley directly.





	Age It 6000 Years, Then Let It Breath

**Author's Note:**

> One day I'll learn how to make the in-text links to the notes. *shakes a fist at the sky* So I apologize for the monotony of scrolling if that's what you're of wont to do.

_ You go too fast for me, Crowley. _

The words sounded off in his head, ringing. Even after the Apocalypse That Never Was, Crowley kept his moves in check. He hadn’t Downstairs looking over him now after The Charade, but Aziraphale himself was there.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable looming. In fact, his angel was more of the sun and Crowley was the shadow that his light cast. Another distinction between the two. They could fraternize all they wished, but it would never move past their never quite properly labeled relationship.

Crowley’s thoughts moved too fast,  _ always too fast _ , he reprimanded himself. Six thousand years of going too fast and he had to bite his tongue to keep from mucking it up. It was greater torture than Hell could come up with. His angel smiling at him, completely satisfied, as all Crowley selfishly wanted was more.

Currently, they were in the back of the bookshop. Crowley was loathed to admit but he had been so anxious coming back here. He had been anxious about  _ Aziraphale _ coming back here. His drunken slurring, sobbing to a barely-there Aziraphale that he had lost his best friend, clawed at him and wished him to not cross the threshold.

Wine sloshed against their glasses as they cheered and toasted. It was a bittersweet thought, really. Pretending was one thing, but when Crowley enjoyed every piece of it the only thought was _ not too fast _ . He willed himself to slow down. Slow down before he leaned too close and smiled too fondly. Too everything.  _ Too fast _ .

It had been several weeks since the Apocawasn’t. It had been nearly just as long since Their Deception. They had been doing this ever since. This being drinking at the bookshop, drinking at his place, and drinking at the Ritz. **1** Never enough to loosen his tongue and never enough to go too fast. With all this worry about going too fast, one might call Crowley a Speed Demon.

Laughter riched poured from Crowley at that thought. It interrupted what Aziraphale was talking about. He hadn’t been paying attention, just listening to his voice. Crowley found himself doing that often. Aziraphale paused his speech, brow furrowed but still plastered with a drunken smile.

“My dear, whatever is so funny?” Aziraphale finally spoke, addressing Crowley directly.

Crowley shook his head with a gentle chuckle. He shouldn’t be gentle, but then again he shouldn’t be worried about going too fast either if he were any other demon. “S’nothing. Jus’ tingly from the wine, angel.”

Aziraphale didn’t quite look like he believed him. He clicked his tongue before taking another slow drink of his own wine. His eyes twinkled, reminding Crowley of a constellation he had once hung. **2**

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called his attention. It didn’t take much for his angel to draw his attention. His head always swiveled to look at him. He always moved too fast in an effort to catch his eye.

Slowing his movements, Crowley loosely draped himself over the couch. “Yes?” He drew an even longer sip of his wine than Aziraphale had. It was a cruel tease to take Aziraphale’s words so literally at the moment, but Crowley didn’t think his angel would even realize the intention behind his sluggish movements as anything beyond inebriation.

His angel chewed his lip, taking the plump skin and toying with it between his teeth. This was a true temptation. Perhaps that was what Crowley meant all those years ago. But was it bad that his angel tempted him? He didn’t think it was a sin and even if it was he didn’t care.

“My dear,” he began again, looking much soberer than he had moments before. Oh,  _ bollocks. _ He was wanting one of those conversations. One of those conversations clutched at Crowley like a parking brake, begging him to slow. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you since…”

Ah, yes. Perhaps this was The End. Crowley had always anticipated The End. **3** He turned away from his angel, even as his eyes were still covered by dark glasses. “Since we’ve got our offices out of the way now, eh?” He provided. Aziraphale seemed to be having issues finding his words, but Crowley knew in his heart of dark hearts where these words were traveling.

“Well, actually…” Aziraphale began softly, placing his wine down on the table that lay parallel to the couch. “I’ve wanted to tell you since much longer.” He chuckled, fretting away at his hands as he always seemed wont to do. “It’s just now I feel… _ free _ to do so.”

Raising an eyebrow, Crowley turned his gaze to face Aziraphale. Aziraphale deserved him to look in his eyes. His yellow-colored eyes, a serpent in the grass, peered out from his glasses. He leaned back, trying to resume his cool demeanor. “And now that you’re… _ free _ ,” he tried emulating his angel’s word choice. “What is it?”

It was true dread that crept up Crowley’s spine. He felt his shadow, the serpent that tempted with that apple, crawl along his corporeal form. Aziraphale formed words but then abandoned the sounds before turning away. “ _ Crowley _ .” He whispered his name.

And wasn’t that funny? The way his name rolled from his angel’s tongue like a prayer. Neither of them served anything other than Humanity and themselves anymore, and yet it sounded so reverent from his mouth. That was just what Angels did though, wasn’t it? Angels loved everything and poured Her love from their pores. It didn’t rightly explained away the sound of his name, but it was his lone fuel to his chants of  _ slow _ .

“I love you.” He said it in a breath. His shoulders sagged and a smile fluttered across his face lick the flapping of a butterfly’s wings. “ _ Oh _ , what a relief to say.” Aziraphale nearly giggled, looking so giddy. “I love you, Crowley.”

Crowley, for his part, had completely stopped functioning. No longer was his brain marching on at a slow pace, but now there was a sudden stop. A crash of his train tracks. “You what?” He asked in a similar manner to that of the Garden Wall. **4** Crowley’s corporeal heart raced within his chest. It was beating  _ too fast _ .

Aziraphale’s pretty little pout shown out. A puff of breath not unlike a huff billowed out of him. “I said: I love you.” His patience was just as it had been some 6000 years ago. He licked at his lips as if tasting the words. Another giggled broke the furrow in his brow. “Would you like me to say it again?”

“Angel,” Crowley finally croaked, sounding much more a frog than a snake. “I…” He shook his head and kept his gaze hidden from Aziraphale. It would give too much away. Too fast his eyes would dart over Aziraphale’s tempting, tempting, smile. His shadow crept from his spine around his heart, coiling around the organ.

Worrying at his lip, Aziraphale’s smile dampened. “I… is it odd? To say it?” He turned away from Crowley, bracing his palms on his knees. “I know we’ve always left it unspoken-”

“We what?” Crowley felt himself playing like some sort of recorder. A record turning and skipping until it fell to the same chorus. What was Aziraphale going on about? What the bloody Heaven was happening?

Aziraphale turned to Crowley with another word in his mouth before it yet again died on his tongue. “We’ve… left it unspoken? I know we haven’t said it outright, but they were listening before.” His words turned shy as he ducked his head. “I mean… I think even when I heard you say it without saying it I had denied that I was saying it back.”

Crowley made a noise like a screech except his mouth never opened. He felt his glasses crack although he was not quite certain whether they really had. **5** “And…” he cleared his throat, setting his own wine aside. “How long - exactly - have you been denying it?”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed. “Well, there was a reason I was so upset about your request for the Holy Water.” He admitted, tugging as his pants to straighten them where the fabric lay against his thighs. “I think around the -  _ no _ , I know when you saved those books from the rubble for me,” He turned a still shy but nevertheless bright smile to Crowley. “I knew that I was in love with you.”

Rapid breathing.  _ Too fast _ breathing. Always too fast as Crowley stood, facing away from Aziraphale. He combed his fingers through his hair, trying to ground himself to this Earth. “In the mid-1900s, you knew.” His tongue was thick in his skull. Wild eyes, even hidden behind his glasses, faced Aziraphale as Crowley swiveled on his heel. “You’ve- you’ve known for almost 70 years?!”

“Well, yes.” Aziraphale sighed, looking off rather fondly. “It was my own personal torture, really. Not being able to tell you for so long-”

“ _ Long?! _ ” Crowley hissed. **6** “Don’t get me wrong, angel. I’m as pleased as punch to hear this revelation, but how long have you known how  _ I  _ felt?”

Aziraphale stood, brows furrowing as he shook his head. “Well, I don’t know.” He did that quiet shout he always did in response to Crowley’s serpentine hiss. “Probably as long as I’ve been certain of it?” He offered. “Crowley, my dear. Does speaking it worry you?”

Crowley sputtered for a moment. His hand grasped for thin air as if his words were hidden there. He finally furrowed his brow in kind. His shadow slithered along his tongue and kept his words lodged in his throat until he cleared it with a rough sound.

“Angel,” he spoke carefully. “You… you _love_ me.”

“I rather thought I had made that quite clear.” Suddenly, Aziraphale’s cheeks heated. “Is... Am I mistaken? Are…” his angel nearly shook to keep eye contact. “Are these feelings not mutual?”

Crowley felt his back snap like a twig beneath a huntsman’s foot. “ _ Mutual?! _ ” He hissed again, leaning forward into Aziraphale’s lavender-scented space. “As if I haven’t spent how many decades  _ asking you to come with me?! _ ”

Huffing again, Aziraphale’s cheeks tinted an attractive pink. “I said why I hadn’t spoken of-” his eyes widened, blinking for a moment. “So, the feeling is mutual?” His angel spoke so blessed hopefully. It shattered the hurt that had been built upon in Crowley’s chest.

“Was it not I who was the one going  _ too fast _ ?” He snapped back, venom spitting from his shadow as it crept. Crowley never wanted Aziraphale to know how much those words haunted him, crept along his footfalls like a twin to his shadow.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and his cheeks darkened. “Well, my darling, I was in quite the predicament.” He furrowed his brow, frowning at himself before shaking his head. “No, that’s not quite right.” Licking his lips, Aziraphale pierced Crowley with that angelic gaze of his. **7**

“The fact was, my dear, is that I was a coward. Or perhaps I am still cowardly.” He pressed on, moving just as close to Crowley as the other had before. He moved until they were pressed firmly together. “But now I feel free to say I love you. I love you, Crowley.” Aziraphale said it again. Not as if the words meant nothing, but as if they meant everything. They were a fact.

Crowley swallowed his shadow finally. Finally felt his shoulders fall. He wanted to say a lot of things, but instead, he simply said: “I didn’t know.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and his angel nearly fell over himself. “You didn’t know?” He whispered in a breath against Crowley’s corporeal skin once he had recovered.

“Of course I didn’t.” Crowley found himself whispering. He didn’t quite know where his words were going. He felt snappish and joyful all at once. Instinct, pride, and love all blossomed beneath his bosom. “How was I to ever know?”

Chuckling breathlessly, Aziraphale swayed where he stood. His angel swayed closer to him. He dare say he loved the body heat of his angel. He radiated the sun, and Crowley’s cold blood craved it. “How careless of me to think it obvious.” Crowley could pick out his angel’s sarcasm on a dreary day.

Crowley matched that breathless chuckle in kind. “You’re not as obvious as you think, angel.” A shaking hand that he no longer had control of reached out to caress Aziraphale’s cheek. His angel sighed, leaning into the touch as if it were he who was the serpent and Crowley the sunlight.

“Let me tell you,” Aziraphale spoke softly. “Every day. I love you, Crowley. I have loved you.”

Crowley felt weak in his knees. He felt truly boneless. His body could coil in this moment and die here. “Angel, please.” He spoke with a wobbling tone. “I can’t take much more of that.” **8**

“What will you do?” Aziraphale challenged as he turned his full gaze to Crowley. Both of his hands, soft and slow, took Crowley’s glasses in his nimble fingers before discarding them.

Crowley had never been a demon to back down from a challenge. He had never been one to let a temptation go by either. **9** Grasping Aziraphale tightly by the waist, Crowley dove hungrily for his angel’s lips.

His angel responded enthusiastically. He was starved. They both were. They had fought and died for this hunger. Crowley - although he would never say it - sobbed into that first kiss. Aziraphale clutched at his face, pressing him closer. Crowley fell into it - it being the kiss and Aziraphale himself. He slithered closer, pressing closer, tongue closer,  _ too fast _ -

Crowley drew back suddenly. He knew he must have looked quite the sight. His eyes were wide as Aziraphale panted against his face. His angel spoke almost drunkenly through swollen lips. “Wha-?”

“Too fast?” Crowley found himself saying. Even he was surprised at the lack of teasing. It was too close to the center of him he had thought bordered up long ago. Oh, how very foolish he was to think that Aziraphale had not been there since the very beginning.

Aziraphale’s face fell and Crowley immediately regretted speaking. He wanted to swallow his blessed tongue whole. His angel’s grip on him tightened as he near buried his face into his jacket. That wouldn't be too bad a feeling if guilt - and not the fun kind - hadn’t slithered in tune with his shadow.

“I’m sorry, Crowley.” He shook his head. “I… I don’t want to be frightened of that anymore.” Aziraphale looked up to him hopefully. “If you wouldn’t mind terribly helping me catch up?”

A small smile, thin like a vine, crept along Crowley’s face. He laughed lightly, giddily. This was what he would drink himself with. Every sin of sloth, greed, gluttony… He would travel down the entire list as if they were preteen emotions that Aziraphale instilled in him. “I’ll wait 6000 more years for you, angel.” He leaned in ever so cautiously, still as slow and uncertain, and kissed him again.

Aziraphale drew back with a smile that could only be described as dopey. No, that wasn’t right. In Love. A fluttering feeling in the chest and a sparkle in the eye. Crowley had no doubt he mirrored it exactly. His angel sighed happily, leaning into his chest as if they were partaking in a slow dance.

“Wait just a moment, what do you mean  _ 6000 years _ ?”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. It was quite a bit more than drinking. They had talked about anything and everything at the bookshop. They bickered over the care of Crowley’s plants at his place. Drinking and dining and smiling happened at the Ritz. The Ritz wasn’t often. Usually those dates - if they were to be labeled as such - were spent at the park.  
> 2\. He didn’t usually like thinking about Before. The only time he thought about Before really was when thinking of the stars. Alpha Centauri always had an appeal, and if he admitted it to himself so did Aziraphale’s eyes.  
> 3\. The End that Crowley feared was Their End, really. He always feared his angel realizing he was doing more than fraternizing with a demon. Had always feared it like nothing else.  
> 4\. It had, in fact, been an almost exact replica of that moment. Crowley could always recall it with clarity. He was certain he had fallen in love with his angel right then and there.  
> 5\. They had not cracked.  
> 6\. Seventy or so years was not in fact as long as Crowley had loved Aziraphale - had known that he loved Aziraphale. As stated before, he was quite certain he had fallen in love with his angel right in the Garden. He was certain of it at the latest in Paris if not before.  
> 7\. Crowley thought little to be truly angelic. Heaven wasn’t all it was promised to be, and he knew that. But a true angelic trait was that of his angel’s eyes. That was Crowley’s humble opinion on the state of what was angelic and what was not.  
> 8\. Crowley’s heart had grown so frail and brittle from The Fall. He didn’t speak of it, but everyone knew slowly and decade by the decade that Aziraphale had helped to nourish it.  
> 9\. That was completely untrue. Over the centuries, Crowley had resisted his greatest temptation. That temptation, of course, being the touch of his angel.


End file.
